What Did He Die For

Courtesy of Eldest Daughter, a song and a video for Memorial Day, here. Embedding is disabled; it's "What Did He Die For," by Twila Paris.

(Paleocons, pacifists, and others who break out in hives at any glorifying of the American military are discouraged from clicking on the link.)

The glorious samenes of eternity

This was part of one of the readings for Trinity Sunday yesterday:

And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him; and they were full of eyes within: and they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, LORD God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.

And when those beasts give glory and honour and thanks to him that sat on the throne, who liveth for ever and ever,

The four and twenty elders fall down before him that sat on the throne, and worship him that liveth for ever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying,

Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.
(Revelation 4:8-11)

And it suddenly reminded me, of all things, of Dante's Inferno. One of the most horrible things about Dante's hell is the repetitiveness of it. In one circle, for example, people are eternally hacked into pieces, over and over again. It never, never, never ends.

What's interesting about this vision of heaven is the use of the present tense. The beasts never rest, day and night. They continually cry, "Holy, Holy, Holy." And when they cry, the elders fall down and worship.

One could think about this uncharitably: What, is it sort of like those window displays at Christmas in downtown Chicago when I was a child? The beasts saying the same thing over and over and the elders mechanically falling down and worshiping, getting up, falling down and worshiping again?

What is John conveying here? Well, first of all, I think he did have a vision like this, so I think he's telling what he saw and what he understood--that praise to God in heaven is unceasing.

But another idea, which I think we find hard to receive aright, is this: When we are finally in heaven at the end of all things, human history is over. The beatific vision is not at all like ordinary human life, with its ups and its downs, its reversals, its suspense, failure, success. But when we become what we should be, this will not bother us. We will not be, to put it bluntly, bored. We will want, as the catechism has it, to enjoy God forever.

And I think that in our best moments here on earth, led by the Holy Spirit, we catch a glimpse of the true glory and excitement of that state in which we praise God forever and ever and ever.

May we love that which God commands and desire what he promises, "that so, among the sundry and manifold changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed, where true joys are to be found."

New tune for "Praise My Soul"

Eldest Daughter showed me this video the other day, and I was much intrigued by the tune. I hadn't known that tune to "Praise My Soul the King of Heaven" and wanted to know the name. Checked out the cyberhymnal but got no insight.

Hat tip to our friend Alan Forrester who, after being asked at church, went home and googled and found out. The tune name is "Lauda Anima (Andrews)." The usual "Lauda Anima" tune that is more familiar is by John Goss and is from the 19th century. This one is by one Mark Andrews and is from 1930. I think Andrews has succeeded in capturing an almost 18th century feel. Something Handel-ish about this tune.

This one you may like better without the video, so close your eyes if you just want to hear the music:



Tune in later for (hopefully) some thoughts on the reading from Revelation for Trinity Sunday and for a Twyla Paris Memorial Day video.

The Head that Once Was Crowned With Thorns

Today is Ascension Sunday, meaning it is the Sunday in the octave of the feast of the Ascension. The Ascension is one of my favorite liturgical seasons; I only wish it lasted longer. For one thing, it has some great hymns associated with it, and it can be hard to convince Anglicans to sing those hymns at any other time of year, so we never fit them all in.

Here and here are my last two posts on the theological richness of Ascensiontide from previous years. Here at What's Wrong With the World is a post on the apologetic problems with the "objective vision theory" of the resurrection of Jesus and the way in which that theory is incompatible with the doctrine of the Ascension.

I would also add that the Ascension has special apologetic importance in the following way: Those who treat the apostles as sincerely mistaken in their belief that Jesus was risen must (though they don't always admit this) be attributing some sort of hallucinations to them. But in that case, why did the hallucinations stop, for all of them, at the same time, and with their asserting that they stopped walking and talking with Jesus because He ascended into heaven? Interesting, that. One would not expect severe mental illness and mass hysteria among all those people to be so abruptly cut off, so self-limiting.

Indeed, if the Ascension were not narrated in the Bible, we would have to invent it. It's the only explanation for the obvious difference between the interactions narrated in the resurrection narratives and the behavior of the disciples in the early chapters of Acts (after the Ascension narrative), where they don't seem to be under the slightest impression that Jesus is walking and talking among them.

Notice, too, that if they did not really believe (as some claim) that Jesus was literally, physically resurrected, they did not need to have an Ascension at all. Jesus could have gone on being spiritually present to them in the same way indefinitely. If, on the other hand, he was physically resurrected, the Ascension is very nearly a necessity to explain his physical absence later on. His body had to have gone somewhere.

The teaching of the Ascension is thus strong evidence against hallucinations and against non-physical theories of the resurrection (and of the disciples' teaching) and in favor of the bodily resurrection of Jesus.

Hymn time. Below are the words to "The Head That Once Was Crowned With Thorns." We sang it this morning. Singable and with great words.

The head that once was crowned with thorns
Is crowned with glory now;
A royal diadem adorns
The mighty victor’s brow.

The highest place that Heav’n affords
Belongs to Him by right;
The King of kings and Lord of lords,
And Heaven’s eternal Light.

The joy of all who dwell above,
The joy of all below,
To whom He manifests His love,
And grants His Name to know.

To them the cross with all its shame,
With all its grace, is given;
Their name an everlasting name,
Their joy the joy of Heaven.

They suffer with their Lord below;
They reign with Him above;
Their profit and their joy to know
The mystery of His love.

The cross He bore is life and health,
Though shame and death to Him,
His people’s hope, His people’s wealth,
Their everlasting theme.

Your Blesser Ain't Never Been Blessed

I put up a post about not being cranky in our conservatism in the course of which I included a Gaither Homecoming version of "Amazing Grace." I got some interesting responses and realized that some good conservative friends have a deep suspicion of all Gospel music, which I think is rather a shame. Anyway, I doubt I will make any converts with this post, but it did make me think of the following song, which (by chance) my daughter got on a CD during the very time that the discussion was going on over my post.

If you haven't enjoyed old-time Gospel singing, then your blesser ain't never been blessed. The late Glen Payne tells us all about it.



Since it specifically mentions "The Haven of Rest," just to make sure to give everybody an opportunity to get blessed, here is "The Haven of Rest" as sung by Glen Payne with, of all people, a younger (still dark-haired) Guy Penrod. Eldest Daughter tells me that the first time they sang this together, Bill Gaither chose Guy as a surprise, and the first Payne knew of it was when this very large, long-haired young man was joining him on the stage. (In the version below I especially notice Ernie Haase and, I believe, the late George Younce sitting behind them listening. Also the late Jake Hess is in the audience.)



While we're at it and I'm inflicting Gospel music on my readers, here's a fun one I never put up when I was doing a series from the Gaither reunion video. One of my liberal readers opined that he couldn't understand why I put up the "Amazing Grace" video as iconic of mainstream, Protestant conservatism. Perhaps this one would help him out. I really tend to think a liberal would feel like choking a little singing this--"Build an Ark." Sounds like home schooling...



Oh, and speaking of arks, if you want to read what I must say is an eloquent rant, see VFR reader Kristor here. It ends,

But it's not nice to fool with Mother Nature. There'll be hell to pay, and hell is damn sure going to collect; God is not mocked. Apres nous, le deluge. Eventually, I suppose, some virtuous trad marooned on a mountaintop will spot a rainbow, and we'll get another shot.

Seeing

My sense of sight is not the best. I wear glasses, but lately I have to take off the glasses for reading and computer work, which means that everything further away is a bit blurry. I tend to forget where I've left them, walk around without seeing clearly, then scurry to find them when I have to drive anywhere.

But when I go walking, I wear the glasses. Now it is spring in the Midwest, the kind of spring that man has been writing songs and poems about since forever, the kind of spring that might make even a hardboiled atheist and naturalist wonder if just perhaps this world is more than bouncing atoms in a vacuum.

As it happens, my walks tend to be about an hour before sunset, and for a good deal of the time, I'm walking east. The sun catches the boles of the trees and the green of the young leaves. (Not so young anymore. Spreading a bit now. You can hear them say, like a seven-year-old, "Now I'm big!")

And I can see. No sun in the eyes. The sun shining on everything, and everything clear, standing out in sharp relief. It's an amazing thing, the way it strikes you. The sheer gift of clear physical sight. On those evening spring walks, away from the sun, all the etching of all the bark on all the tree trunks seems clearer than most things ever are, much clearer than the hand in front of my face right now. Everything is itself and seems to be trying to tell me what it is.

"Now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known."

The writers of holy writ and the theologians and poets from St. Thomas Aquinas to the blind Fanny Crosby were wise to tell us of heaven in terms of sight. How did Fanny know, though? Blinded at six weeks of age, she never walked east in the evening and watched the sun on the trees. But she knows now how right she was.

And I shall see him face to face
And tell the story, saved by grace.

Easter IV--That we may love the thing which God commands

One of the greatest collects in the entire Book of Common Prayer is the collect for today, the fourth Sunday after Easter:

O Almighty God, who alone canst order the unruly wills and affections of sinful men; Grant unto thy people, that they may love the thing which thou commandest, and desire that which thou dost promise; that so, among the sundry and manifold changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed, where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

John says that if we ask anything according to God's will, he hears us (I John 2:14). What could be more the will of God than our loving that which God commands and desiring what he promises? And it isn't as easy as it sounds, either.

Here is my older post on this very collect, in which I said it much better and also gave a bit of the history of the collect.

Also of possible interest: Long comment I wrote at W4 on ecumenism and forms of worship.

Pure philosophy of religion--Miracles and Natural theology

There is an idea going around in various circles (some of them not natural allies of one another) that can be expressed in very general terms like this:

One must argue first, cogently, for the existence of the God of traditional theism (hereafter TT--omnipotent, omnibenevolent, eternal, unique) before one can argue that a particular miracle has happened.

A corollary to this is:

A miracle cannot be an argument for TT, which must have been already established, but rather is evidence only for more particular versions of TT--e.g., for Christianity as an extension of Judaism.

I have been fascinated for quite some time with this position, ever since a spin-off of it emerged in Alvin Plantinga's confused discussion of the so-called Principle of Dwindling Probabilities. In the most recent exchange between Esteemed Husband and I, on the one hand, and Plantinga, on the other (in Philosophia Christi), Plantinga was still treating the prior probability of theism (before taking into account the specific evidence for a miracle) as if it were the posterior probability (after taking into account that evidence), and then using the Theorem on Total Probability to argue that an agnostic can never come to believe that, say, the resurrection of Jesus has occurred. The idea from Plantinga was that the agnostic's probability (notice the ambiguity on whether it is the prior or posterior) of approximately .5 for TT will constitute an upper bound on the probability of the more specific proposition that God raised Jesus from the dead, the probability of which must be lower than the .5 probability of TT. But of course the agnostic's prior probability for TT doesn't constitute an upper bound on the posterior probability either of the resurrection or of TT, both of which could, in principle, be as close to 1.0 as you like on the basis of evidence not already conditioned on by the agnostic. And if the agnostic refuses to take into account strong evidence for a miracle that he hasn't previously taken into account, treating his .5 probability as immovable even on the basis of new evidence, then he is simply being irrationally stubborn, and this has nothing to do with probability theory but only with the potential irrationality of agnostics.

Plantinga's argument for the position that a miracle cannot be an argument for theism is a particularly sophisticated one, although it embodies a plain mistake in probability. We cite several vaguer versions in the section called "Hume's Maxim and Worldview Worries" in our article on the resurrection. The assumption behind those versions appears to be that there is such a thing as a prior probability for theism "too low" to be overcome by historical evidence, so that one must cross some prior probabilistic "threshold" before giving an argument for miracles. Sometimes this is expressed by saying that one cannot argue to God from miracles but can only argue from God to miracles.

A particularly surprising statement of the position that context is everything even comes from a philosopher known for his Bayesian analysis of theistic questions, J. L. Mackie.

[W]e should distinguish two different contexts in which an alleged miracle might be discussed. One possible context would be where the parties in debate already both accept some general theistic doctrines, and the point at issue is whether a miracle has occurred which would enhance the authority of a specific sect or teacher. In this context supernatural intervention, though prima facie unlikely on any particular occasion, is, generally speaking, on the cards:...But it is a very different matter if the context is that of fundamental debate about the truth of theism itself. Here one party to the debate is initially at least agnostic, and does not yet concede that there is a supernatural power at all. From this point of view the intrinsic improbability of a genuine miracle . . . is very great, and one or other of the alternative explanations...will always be much more likely – that is, either that the alleged event is not miraculous, or that it did not occur, that the testimony is faulty in some way.This entails that it is pretty well impossible that reported miracles should provide a worthwhile argument for theism addressed to those who are initially inclined to atheism or even to agnosticism. . . . Not only are such reports unable to carry any rational conviction on their own, but also they are unable even to contribute independently to the kind of accumulation or battery of arguments referred to in the Introduction.To this extent Hume is right, despite the inaccuracies we have found in his statement of the case(Miracle of Theism, p. 27, emphasis added).

This position, however, is simply incorrect if taken to be (as it is intended to be) an in-principle argument. While it is of course true in specific cases that a particular prior probability is too low to be overcome by a particular set of evidence, there is no such thing as a "slippery" prior. In principle, any finite low prior probability can be overcome by sufficiently strong non-deductive evidence. One might argue that in fact all of the evidence we have for some particular miracle, such as Jesus' resurrection, is too weak to overcome the prior probability of theism without natural theology arguments, but this claim (which I think is probably false) would not be an in-principle argument in any event.

Another approach to all of this is that of my esteemed blog colleague Ed Feser, when he implies in this excellent post that, since natural theology arguments are so strong, they naturally precede arguments for specific miracles. After all, if you can metaphysically prove TT, why would you start out first with a merely probabilistic argument for a miracle? And once you have given such a metaphysical proof, why would you bother saying that the argument for a miracle was an argument for the existence of God, which had already been proved?

Ed reiterates this position briefly in a comment apropos of the investigation of Catholic miracles:

Re: Lourdes, yes, but that's because God's existence is already assumed on independent grounds. It's not an argument for God's existence. The claim isn't "This sure looks like a miracle; so, probably God exists." It's rather "We already know God exists; and given that plus the specific evidence at hand, this looks like it is probably a case where He has caused a miracle." In general, A-T writers tend to approach the question of miracles only after establishing God's existence (e.g. as part of an apologetic for Christianity specifically) rather than using miracles as themselves an argument for God's existence.

One way of looking at this position, which Ed does not spell out, is a sort of diminishing returns view. If you have an absolute proof for TT, then what is there for probabilistic arguments to add to TT? It has a probability of 1.0. Or even if we allow (as I think we should) for some slippage if you aren't absolutely certain that you got all the steps of your metaphysical proof right, the probability for you will still be fairly close to 1 given high confidence in what purports to be an absolute proof, so there will be diminishing returns from additional arguments from miracles for TT. It would be like a billionaire digging for changing in his couch. Hence, the arguments from miracles should be seen as arguments for something else, something with a lower prior probability "going into" the evaluation of their evidence--e.g., the probability that God is a Trinity, that Jesus was God, etc.

(I had hoped to deal with these issues in the article I'm currently working on on history and theism for a Routledge volume on theism, but space constraints made that impossible, so I'm taking the lazy way and doing it in a blog post. The nice thing about a blog post is that you can put digressive comments like this in parentheses right in the middle when you can't find anywhere else to put them, while not being too bothered by your writers' conscience for doing so. But I digress...)

One immediate answer to the "change in the couch" objection is that it is simply true, as a matter of logic, that an argument that supports the occurrence of a miracle is an argument that supports the existence of the one who did the miracle. This is evident from the fact that "God performed a miracle" entails "God exists," so evidence that makes it probable that God performed a miracle makes it probable that God exists. Perhaps this won't seem interesting, but I think it's rather interesting. In other words, you can't say, "This shouldn't be seen as an argument that God exists" when it is a logically necessary fact that it must be an argument for the proposition that God exists. It's rather like saying that an argument for "Lydia went to the store" shouldn't be seen as an argument for "Lydia exists." It just is an argument for "Lydia exists" whether it "should" be or not, since the proposition that Lydia did something entails the simpler proposition that Lydia exists. (The question of whether I can have my own personal probability for "Lydia exists" raised by that argument, given that, as a good Cartesian, I really do have a probability of 1.0 for "I exist" is complicated and gets into issues like opacity and what I would mean by "Lydia" in such a proposition and so forth.)

Second, I'm afraid that there are some people who are unable to see the force of the metaphysical proofs of TT. Here I include myself, particularly when it comes to Divine goodness. I've really tried, but the interconvertibility of the transcendentals just is over my head. That's not to say that I don't think any natural theology arguments are any good. The ones that seem to me most cogent thus far are something like a Kalam cosmological argument and the argument from mind. But those don't get you to a full TT, whereas the existence of the God preached by Jesus does.

Now, this may well be a limitation on my part. But if I can't see the full force of the a priori arguments for TT, there are no doubt a lot of other people who can't, either. And the prior probability for TT for some person like me, before taking miracles (including evidence of fulfilled prophecy) into account, will therefore be a good deal lower than it is for the convinced Thomist.

Here we enter muddy waters, epistemologically. For if the Thomistic arguments really do work, but I just can't see it, then my probability distribution in that case is, to that extent, incorrect and incoherent. No doubt all of us have areas of incoherence in our probability distributions, especially when it comes to deductive logic and our own failure of logical omniscience. I am strongly inclined to think that such problems in distributions do not necessarily metastasize throughout the whole distribution. That is to say, one could still see correctly the impact of some further piece of evidence even if one were putting it together with a logically incorrect prior. But the fact remains that for people in my situation, or even people who know even less natural theology than I do, the historical evidence for miracles is certainly not going to be a "change in the couch" matter.

The Cathedrals singing around the piano

This is great. The combination of young and old singers here is really neat.



The young Ernie Haase is one of only two of the men there who is still with us, though of course he's no longer that young. George Younce and Glen Payne, the two elderly gentlemen, have both passed away, and the pianist, Roger Bennett, died of leukemia in 2007. It gives added meaning to the song about heaven that they sing with such gusto.

HT: Eldest Daughter

Boys will be boys

I enjoyed this, from another blog, but only because it was happening to someone else. I have only girls, so hopefully I will escape. Dialogue reported between mother and son:

The Boy: Can I have a pet snake?
Me: No, I don't think you're old enough for the responsibility.
The Boy: But what if I found it and it didn't cost you anything?
Me: That is not the issue.
The Boy: Are you afraid of snakes?
Me: No.
The Boy: Good. Because I lost my pet snake.
Me: You don't have a pet... wait. What?
The Boy: I was hiding it under my bed.
Me: [through clenched teeth] You mean to say there is a snake loose in the house?
The Boy: It's OK really! I think the cat will eat it.

(Language warning on the original post at The Crescat, but I thought it probably would be contrary to blog etiquette not to link it, so here it is.)

Words of wisdom from the 19th century

Before we proceed to the consideration of any particular defects in the religious system of the bulk of professed Christians, it maybe proper to point out the very inadequate conception which they entertain of the importance of Christianity in general, of its peculiar nature, and superior excellence. If we listen to their conversation, virtue is praised, and vice is censured; piety is perhaps applauded, and profaneness condemned. So far all is well. But let any one, who would not be deceived by these “barren generalities,” examine a little more closely, and he will find, that not to Christianity in particular, but at best to religion in general, perhaps to mere morality, their homage is intended to be paid. With Christianity, as distinct from these, they are little acquainted; their views of it have been so cursory and superficial, that, far from discerning its peculiar characteristics, they have little more than perceived those exterior circumstances which distinguish it from other forms of religion....

Does this language seem too strong? View their plan of life, and their ordinary conduct; and let us ask, wherein can we discern the points of discrimination between them and professed unbelievers? In an age wherein it is confessed and lamented that infidelity abounds, do we observe in them any remarkable care to instruct their children in the principles of the faith which they profess, and to furnish them with arguments for the defence of it? They would blush, on their child’s coming out into the world, to think him defective in any branch of that knowledge, or of those accomplishments, which belong to his station in life; and accordingly these are cultivated with becoming assiduity. But he is left to collect his religion as he may: the study of Christianity has formed no part of his education; and his attachment to it (where any attachment to it exists at all) is, too often, not the preference of sober reason and conviction, but merely the result of early and groundless prepossession. He was born in a Christian country; of course, he is a Christian: his father was a member of the Church of England; so is he. When such is the religion handed down among us by hereditary succession, it cannot surprise us to observe young men of sense and spirit beginning to doubt altogether of the truth of the system in which they have been brought up, and ready to abandon a station which they are unable to defend. Knowing Christianity chiefly in the difficulties which it contains, and in the impossibilities which are falsely imputed to it, they fall perhaps into the company of infidels; where they are shaken by frivolous objections and profane cavils, which, had their religious persuasion been grounded in reason and argument, would have passed by them “as the idle wind.

William Wilberforce, A Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians, in the Higher and Middle Classes in This Country; Contrasted with Real Christianity (London: Fisher, Son, & Co., 1834), pp. 5-7

HT: Esteemed Husband

Okay--I think this is funny

HT: Secondhand Smoke

Originalism and post-modernism

I posted this to my status at Facebook but decided it deserved a wider audience. At the same time, I really don't want to deal too much with the liberal commentators at W4, so I'm compromising by posting it here. Which probably means it won't actually have a wider audience. Anyway, this is what I said:

Does it ever occur to the people who teach in U.S. law schools that there is great moral hazard in teaching, even requiring, the most intelligent young people in the country, its future leaders, to regard the reality governing all the citizens of the most powerful nation in the world as literally created by the will of nine human beings?

Further ruminations on the subject: I see people talking about whether the individual mandate in Obamacare is constitutional, and what I realize is that when lawyers talk about this, they are simply making a prediction. What will SCOTUS rule? Ultimately, that's going to be the question. Lawyers are taught that the Constitution means what the Supreme Court says it means. The Supreme Court, in other words, creates the meaning of the Constitution in an on-going act of pure will and power. So if the Supreme Court rules that the federal government has all powers not expressly forbidden to it in the Constitution (which is directly contrary to the 10th amendment as well as to the entire assumption of enumerated powers that makes the Constitution necessary in the first place and that governs its structure of laying out the powers of the different branches of the federal government), why, then, that's what the Constitution means. If they somehow descry this grant of plenary power over every individual in the country to make that individual do what Congress wishes hidden somewhere in the 16th amendment (that's the income tax amendment), why, then, that's what the 16th amendment means.

Now, if that doesn't bother you, as an American, it should. Yet that's what the law schools have been teaching for decades. The Constitution has no external meaning. It means what the courts rule.

I don't care if you regard yourself as a natural law theorist on con-law. I don't care if you think Antonin Scalia is a "positivist" and this is a bad thing. I ask you to think: Isn't there something very, very wrong with a purely postmodern view of the very constituting document of our country according to which it has no stable meaning? Isn't there something very, very wrong with a situation where the question, "Is it true that the individual mandate is constitutional?" has nothing to do with a stable meaning of the Constitution but is merely a question of prediction about what nine black-robed rulers will say in a few months?

Alleluia! He is Risen! A Musical Easter

He is risen! Rejoice and be exceeding glad, for death is swallowed up in victory!

Below are several entirely different types of Easter music. Take your pick.

Side note: I wish someone would put on-line the old Don Wyrtzen setting of "Worthy Is the Lamb." It is simple but beautiful, but it seems not to have stayed in fashion long enough to make it to the Internet. If I find it before next year, I'll put it up next Easter.

Blessings to my readers for a joyous Eastertide. (No new Easter apologetics material in this post, but here, here, here, and here are some of my other posts on that topic, and here is Tim's and my paper on the resurrection.)


"Worthy is the Lamb" and "Amen" from Handel's Messiah



Glad--"Christus Dominus Hodie Resurrexit" (When Imeem went to Myspace, this disappeared from another post that included it, so here it is again.)




"Because He Lives"--Gaither Vocal Band, especially good solo by Guy Penrod

Go to Dark Gethsemane

As we head into Holy Week, I wanted to say something about this post. I'm a bit hesitant about doing so, because the author is obviously in pain. But unfortunately, he seems to be making some theological implications that are not right, and it seems to me that Holy Week is a good time to answer them.

In brief, the author of the post, Anthony Sacramone (whose work I have never read before), says that he does not want to believe that God had a purpose in allowing his mother to suffer a painful death, he does not want an explanation of this, because that would have to mean that he considered that suffering to have been "O.K." He says,

And so, no, I don’t want to know whether there was a “reason” for it all. I don’t ever want to get to the point where what happened becomes tolerable. I want it forever to be ugly and pointless and cruel.

One interesting thought that immediately comes to mind is that his mother (from all he says about her) almost certainly would disagree with him right now about "wanting it forever to be ugly and pointless and cruel," since it sounds as though she now understands better than any of us here on earth just what the Apostle Paul meant when he said that the sufferings of this present life are not worthy to be compared with the joys that lie before us.

Sacramone's answer to the problem of pain is the fact that Jesus wept when confronted with human death. Now it is indeed true that Jesus came to bear our suffering with us and to be a High Priest who can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities. That is a great Christian truth. But it is not by any means the sum total of Christian truth on the meaning of suffering, and to truncate Christian teaching on that matter, especially to do so on principle, is to rob oneself of resources of strength and courage that Scripture has to offer. They are in many ways difficult passages to bear, but they are there for all of us and have been, I believe, inspired by the Holy Ghost, in some cases spoken by Christ Himself, and preserved for our edification to strengthen us in trouble. Here are just some of them:

My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work,...(James 1:2-4)

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted....Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you...Rejoice, and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven... (Matt. 5:4, 11-12)

If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. (Matt. 16:24-25)

And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. (Romans 8:17-18)

It is a faithful saying, for if we be dead with him, we shall also live with him. If we suffer, we shall also reign with him. (II Tim. 2:11-12)

Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death; that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. (Romans 6:4)

Scripture is unequivocal that there is an explanation for suffering, that God does desire to use all things in us for our sanctification, and that our acceptance of this is an essential part of becoming that which He intends for us, which is our only way to joy. We cannot reject this teaching; it is at the crux of the whole Christian view of the world.

Of course suffering is not "okay" in some shallow sense. Of course we should seek to alleviate suffering. Nor should we seek it for ourselves in some masochistic way. But that there is, in the mysterious yet at the same time openly stated purposes of God, a meaning for it, that it is allowed by Him for a reason, is one of the greatest truths He has given us. It would not be an exaggeration to say that one of the reasons Jesus came to earth, died, and rose again was to reveal to us that all human suffering, like His suffering, is both "not okay" and also not meaningless--not merely "not okay." Rather, suffering, which came upon us initially by the sin of Adam, can be by the terrifying favor and operation of God an opportunity and a means of grace. I do not claim to understand this at the deepest level, but I must try continually to remember it and never to reject it. It will, I pray, be a lifeline to me when my testing times come.

If I were Anthony Sacramone's personal friend, I hope that I would have the sense not to beat him over the head with these verses. Now is doubtless not the time. But I offer them to you, my readers, that they may be a reminder and strengthen you now.

Go to dark Gethsemane, ye that feel the tempter’s power;
Your Redeemer’s conflict see, watch with Him one bitter hour,
Turn not from His griefs away; learn of Jesus Christ to pray.

Follow to the judgment hall; view the Lord of life arraigned;
O the wormwood and the gall! O the pangs His soul sustained!
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss; learn of Him to bear the cross.

Calvary’s mournful mountain climb; there, adoring at His feet,
Mark that miracle of time, God’s own sacrifice complete.
“It is finished!” hear Him cry; learn of Jesus Christ to die.

Early hasten to the tomb where they laid His breathless clay;
All is solitude and gloom. Who has taken Him away?
Christ is risen! He meets our eyes; Savior, teach us so to rise.

Bad Christian art humor

I laughed and laughed. These posts are incredibly funny. The Crescat, about whom I know little otherwise, is a rather salty-tongued Catholic blogger (medium-range language warning on the site) who collects and doles out to her readers images of truly dreadful Christian art. They comment and suggest captions. She has some very funny readers, too. My favorite image so far, with the caption, is this one (linked here at Scott W's blog). The comments when Crescat originally put it up are hilarious as well. One reader asks why Jesus' tunic appears to have a zipper, and whether that's a hoodie flung over His shoulder. Another says that the picture is obviously a portrait of Gladly, the cross-eyed bear. (Groan.)

Then there's this picture and comment thread. I'm with the reader who wants to know what's with the male pattern baldness on the Lord.

Here is the entire set of posts under the "bad art" label. If you have a slightly strange sense of humor, as I do, and a slightly thick skin, read the comments and enjoy a good laugh.

A friend showed me a picture once by a Baptist artist that portrays Yahweh in the Burning Bush as Mr. Clean. I have to see if I can get the link...

Strangers and Pilgrims

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country....But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11:13-16)

That passage from Hebrews is one of my favorite Scripture passages of all, and it seems to mean more with every year that passes. I realize that the people to whom the author of Hebrews is referring are the Old Testament saints. That is why he says that they died without having received the promises. They died before the coming of Jesus Christ. But he is also offering them to us as an example of faith, and their confession that they are strangers and pilgrims on the earth and their desire for a heavenly country are surely meant to be examples to us. We must confess that we are strangers and pilgrims here and that we seek a better country in order that God shall not be ashamed to be called our God. For He has prepared for us a city.

And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are thy which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell amopng them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. (Rev. 7:13-17)

The following song is another of those that I had forgotten until reminded of it by my daughter. Beautifully done by the Gaither Vocal Band together with Signature Sound. When the crowd comes to its feet during Guy Penrod's solo, I'm much inclined to do the same.

"These Are They":

Lisa Miller update--Vermont judge has issued arrest warrant

As of last month (but I just found it now) a Vermont judge has issued an arrest warrant for Lisa Miller, holding her in contempt of court. Apparently the original warrant was only within Vermont's jurisdiction, but somebody-or-other in Vermont can expand this to a nationwide search for Lisa and her daughter Isabella. The intent is to force Miller to give full custody of Isabella to lesbian Janet Jenkins, who is no biological relation of Isabella's. Previously, a Virginia judge had refused to issue a Virginia arrest warrant for Miller, presumably preferring that Vermont do its own dirty work. Lisa's and Isabella's whereabouts are not known.

Weary of Earth--Great Protestant hymn

I want to introduce the words of this hymn, which we sang this morning, to any readers who may not be familiar with it. The lyrics are by Samuel J. Stone, who also wrote the words to "The Church's One Foundation." I've put in brackets the verses that don't appear in our hymnal at church; it's pretty long, and I think cutting a couple of verses was a good idea. Also, the words to the final verse don't seem to have the same poetic stresses as the words in the other verses, which would make that verse hard to set to music.

The present tune is very repetitive and dull, and I think it would be wonderful if one of our talented modern hymn writers got inspired and wrote a new, singable, tune to this biblical hymn:

Weary of earth, and laden with my sin,
I look at Heav’n and long to enter in,
But there no evil thing may find a home:
And yet I hear a voice that bids me “Come.”

[So vile I am, how dare I hope to stand
In the pure glory of that holy land?
Before the whiteness of that throne appear?
Yet there are hands stretched out to draw me near.]

The while I fain would tread the heav’nly way
Evil is ever with me day by day;
Yet on mine ears the gracious tidings fall:
“Repent, confess, thou shalt be loosed from all.”

It is the voice of Jesus that I hear;
His are the hands stretched out to draw me near,
And His the blood that can for all atone,
And set me faultless there before the throne.

’Twas He Who found me on the deathly wild,
And made me heir of Heav’n, the Father’s child,
And day by day, whereby my soul may live,
Gives me His grace of pardon, and will give.

O great Absolver, grant my soul may wear
The lowliest garb of penitence and prayer,
That in the Father’s courts my glorious dress
May be the garment of Thy righteousness.

Yea, Thou wilt answer for me, righteous Lord;
Thine all the merits, mine the great reward;
Thine the sharp thorns, and mine the golden crown;
Mine the life won, and Thine the life laid down.

[Naught can I bring, dear Lord, for all I owe,
Yet let my full heart what it can bestow;
Like Mary’s gift, let my devotion prove,
Forgiven greatly, how greatly I love.]

According to the Cyberhymnal, Stone said, "Of all my hymns [this] one…is the most dear to me be­cause of the let­ters I have re­ceived from or about per­sons to whose joy and peace and be­liev­ing it has been per­mit­ted to be in­stru­ment­al."

Notice the emphasis on the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ as our "wedding garment" (2 Corinthians 5:21, Matthew 22) and on Jesus' substitutionary atonement.

Great hymn words.

Rifqa Bary Update: Judge throws out parents' frivolous motion

Good news: The judge in Rifqa Bary's case has thrown out the parents' motion to set aside dependency declaration and go to trial. This is a big victory, because it indicates more clearly than anything that has come before that Rifqa is not going to be sent back to her parents against her will. She turns eighteen in five months, on August 10.

This also vindicates the strategy of Rifqa's lawyers in getting the dependency declaration in the first place. As I have said repeatedly in other venues, a dependency declaration is a dependency declaration. Because the parents made this blatant power grab in attempting to get it thrown out, Pamela Geller has, unfortunately, been saying that Rifqa was "tricked," that the dependency declaration in January is "useless," and things of that sort. But actually, today's hearing confirms the legal situation: This wasn't some sort of agreement that the parents could simply "renege" on at will. They tried that and learned (surprise!) that a court declaration of dependency has a certain status and that it's up to the court whether to throw out its own declaration. That it was arrived at by way of the parents' having dropped their objections back in January doesn't make it a "deal" they can simply "back out of."

Unfortunately, Rifqa's immigration status remains up in the air. Her lawyers have filed motions with the court to declare a) that reconciliation with her parents is impossible and b) that it is not in her interests (no kidding!) to be sent back to Sri Lanka. It appears that, under federal law, these declarations by the state family court are part of the apparatus needed for getting her legal immigrant status here in the U.S. independent of her parents. It appears that the judge did not grant those motions today, but I haven't been able to find out if the judge rejected them or did not rule on them. It is apparently rather important to get this immigration thing sorted out for Rifqa before she turns eighteen, and that is why her lawyers are pursuing a special visa for her called (I'm told) an SJLV. That remains unresolved, as far as I can tell.

Let's praise the Lord for the good news thus far.

(I'll probably cross-post later at W4, but for now I want to leave Todd McKimmey's gorgeous photos top and center and not upstage them.)